


Tale of Tales

by Nonsuch



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Balem's in the dog house!, Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge, Mother of the year goes to Seraphi Abrasax!, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Space capitalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonsuch/pseuds/Nonsuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seraphi Abrasax is about to take a trip, and what kind of mother would she be without asking her little child what she wanted her to bring back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tale of Tales

Kalique was ushered into the vast, echoing audience chamber by her splice nanny, and gripped Adressa’s warm, furred hand as she gazed up at the encroaching throne that housed the form of Seraphi Abrasax. Her mother – with her sunny, evergreen smiles and lilting voice – was somehow more frightening than brother Balem, the former’s caresses more feared than the latter’s sly pinches.

“Bring her closer.” Seraphi instructed, Adressa gently guiding the child forward until they both stood at the bottom of the marble steps. Her mother’s dawn-coloured gown cascaded down in great gauzy waves, and Kalique hung back for fear of treading on it. Seraphi leaned forward, the fabric rippling with the shift of her body, peering down at her child and smiling. She unfolded her arms with exquisite poise, stretching them out to reach for Kalique. “Give her to me.” Kalique went rigid as Adressa obediently bent to lift her, locking her arms around her nanny’s neck and continuing to cling even as she was set into her mother’s lap. Only when she felt her mother’s soft hand upon her hair did Kalique turn, releasing her arms from Adressa’s neck and gazing directly at the full majesty of Seraphi Abrasax’s face. As she stared, Kalique felt Adressa’s lingering warmth leave her as the splice withdrew from the room.

Kalique’s mother had always been a visitor, a magnificent stranger who swept into the nursery in glittering gowns and sprawling headdresses. Even now, caught in her arms, drawn into her blend of perfume, colour and comfort, she remained a mystery, more an unknowable goddess to be worshipped than a mother to be loved.

Seraphi, for her part, fondled Kalique as if she were a kitten, stroking her ivory-painted fingers through the child’s fine, formless hair and cooing with approval as the child’s limbs went lax and limp in her embrace. Six-year-old Kalique was an infant, a helpless child to be cradled and cosseted in the precious, stolen moments she could be grasped and enjoyed. What else could a six-year-old be to a woman who had passed more than 77,000 years?

“Now, do you know why I had you brought here?”

Kalique could only stare at her, unable to speak. Seraphi’s mouth was a red streak, her eyes grossly enlarged by thick rings of kohl. There was no true kindness in those eyes, no trace of the kind of warm, selfless kindness she saw when she looked into Adressa’s gentle, gold-striped face. No, Seraphi always appeared hungry when she held her. As beautiful as Seraphi was, Kalique couldn’t escape the suspicion that her mother was an ogress – the charming, glamoured kind that fed little children sweets before roasting them for dinner.

Seraphi clicked her tongue, chiding. “You merely need to tell me if you do not know.”

“I don’t know, mama.”

“Good girl,” the hand was as soft as down against her cheek, the powder turning Kalique’s rosy cheek a shade whiter. “A harvest is a tribute. I am a queen as you are a princess, and my people give me harvests in thanks for their creation. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Kalique had caught onto the game now, nodding vigorously in the hope that her enthusiasm would disguise her lie.

“In order to demonstrate my gratitude, it is important that I am present to accept their gift. I will need to leave you.”

Kalique did not understand, for her mother’s absences were far lengthier than her visits. Weeks would pass with no contact, Kalique left to rest her head in Adressa’s lap and listen as tales, endless stories of worlds Kalique had to construct from nothing in her imagination, were recited to her. Her mother was present only as a spectre, a threat of suffocation and ceremony. “How long will you be away?”

“A year.”

A year to Kalique was a glorious oasis of time, so long as to feel like a lifetime in itself. The promise of it was enough to animate her, and she stirred from her stupor to sit bolt upright. “Which planet are you going to?”

“It is named Cassius. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes.”

Seraphi extended a fine, elegant arm encircled with a thick golden bracelet. Without command or gesture, a holographic image began to emanate from the bracelet, showing a gleaming silver planet. “They have reached a state of great technological advancement – more of the planet is metal than it is grass. Even the seas are being built on. Do you like it?”

The child nodded, little comprehending the words but enraptured by the holo. Kalique, who had only previously seen planets as distant dots of light glimpsed through the ship’s windows, extended her hand in an attempt to touch the revolving sphere. The image of Cassius fizzed and hissed, and Kalique snatched her hand back, heart racing.

“It’s only an image, darling. It won’t hurt you. Now, it’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” answered Kalique, her voice solemn. Her mother laughed – a light, musical sound – retracting her arm and causing the planet to vanish. Seraphi’s arms now wrapped around Kalique, pulling her close to her glittering breast. Kalique leaned against her, quite numb to the dig of the jewels. Her mother’s power had, with the projection of the planet, gained an anchor. Seraphi Abrasax was no longer an ogress, unfathomable, frightening and dangerous – instead, she was a goddess of creation. She deserved the worship she demanded with her ornately painted face and powdered body, and the justification somehow made her easier to comprehend. Kalique could not say she loved her, not quite yet, but she had felt the first fluttering of what she would later recognise as admiration.

“You’re my sweet, special girl, and I’m going to miss you.”

“Can I come with you? I want to see it for myself.”

Kalique felt a laugh buzz in her mother’s chest, piercing the thick armour of her bodice to tickle her. “When you’re older you will come with me – my people will pay tribute to us both.”

“And brother?”

Seraphi released a sharp, hissing breath to signal her displeasure, and Kalique tensed in her mother’s arms. “No, not your brother. He is an ugly, selfish creature, and you are not to speak of him. Now, what would you like me to bring you?”

“From the planet?” Kalique answered quickly for fear of upsetting her further. She hoped she’d kept the quiver in her voice down.

“Yes – I’ll bring you anything you wish for. What do you want?”

“Bring me anything and I’ll be happy, mama.” Kalique looked up into her mother’s face, and found softness there. Her caress felt kinder, gentler, than it had before. The venom the mention of her brother had prompted seemed to be no more than a horrid memory, forgiven and consigned to the past.

“You need to give me more of an idea than that. What do you like best in the ‘Verse?”

The answer to this, at least, was easy. “Stories.”

“Stories? You would truly like me to bring you stories?”

Kalique nodded firmly. “Yes.”

“And what kind of stories does my little girl like best?”

Kalique paused to contemplate this, swaying slightly in her mother’s lap as she summoned up memories of her favourites. “I like the scary ones.”

“You like to be frightened?” Seraphi asked, incredulous. Kalique was a small, frail thing, and had been pampered and appeased every day of her short life. It was difficult to imagine such a child deriving pleasure from fear.

Kalique shrugged. “It’s fun to be frightened sometimes.” The terror in stories, Kalique found, was just thrilling enough to be exciting without inspiring genuine fear. Stories could simulate terror, certainly, but it was a fleeting, frail kind of fear. No, the only force Kalique had ever truly been frightened of was her mother. Her mother could paralyse her with the elevation of an eyebrow, whereas listening as a father greedily slurped down the boiled flesh of his only son could only stimulate an electric, tingling thrill.

“Well, in that case I’ll hunt far and wide to find you the most ghastly stories ever conceived of. Would you like that?”

Kalique beamed, and that was all the answer she needed to give for Seraphi Abrasax to sift through the souls of Cassius for a storyteller.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Jupiter Ascending Fic Challenge which I've organised over on my fuckyeahjupiterascending tumblr - anyone is welcome to take part, and while the deadline for the current challenge is Saturday 29th August there will be a brand new challenge the next day! In other words, keep your eyes open as this is going to be a regular thing! I want to see as many people participate as possible, and you can take part even if you're not on tumblr - just comment on this story and let me know if you're interested, as we can then set something up. My tumblr - http://fuckyeahjupiterascending.tumblr.com/
> 
> I hope to continue this and work in more of the prompt words, but for now I've just included the three main ones - tale/jewel/hunt.
> 
> Please do comment with your thoughts - it's great to get feedback, and I'll be more motivated to continue if this gets a good response! Also, do let me know which fairy-tales you recognise - I love working stories within stories, especially here!


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